Silver Age
by Verdant Skye
Summary: Nothing is known of Jason Silver before he stumbled through the gates of Vale. What became of him after is legend.
1. The City

**Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. It is owned by Rooster Teeth.**

The City

The fifteen year old boy stumbled along the path to the city. If he looked up, he would see the walls only about a half a mile ahead of him, but it was a choice between moving his head or his feet at this point. He knew he was close. His right foot slipped out from below him as he applied pressure and he would have fallen were it not for the staff he had to brace himself with. As he regained his footing, he finally looked up, stopping for a moment. The wind swept back his charcoal grey hair as he grinned. There would be no giving up now, not this close. He looked down again, taking in all the cuts and bruises he had gained along the way. His clothes were in tatters, and the back of his right leg looked like a rabid dog had his way with it. He could see that his staff was set half off the edge of a rock in front of him, its metal shimmering in the light of the sun.

 _'_ _Come on now, one foot in front of the other.'_

The boy started forward again, moving slowly, painstaking step after painstaking step.

* * *

...-...

* * *

It took him almost an hour to reach the walls. The bottom of the sun was just touching the peaks of the mountains, throwing long shadows across the ground behind anything that stood tall. Sweat dripped off of the boy's forehead. But here he was. He had reached the gates of Vale. Confidence surged through the boy and he straightened up, lifting his staff off of the ground and positioning it closer to him, more relaxed.

 _'_ _Oh, that was a bad idea.'_

"Hey! Kid? You alright?"

The boy swayed side to side, blood pounding in his ears. He thought he heard a voice call out to him, but couldn't be sure. His right leg gave out on him and he fell to his side, no cry coming from his lips. In the moment that he fell, his world faded to black.

"Kid!"


	2. The Wild

**Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY. It is owned by Rooster Teeth.  
**

The Wild

 ** _Five years earlier:_**

Fire. All he saw was fire. Fire on the buildings, fire on the people, and fire on the Grimm. It was just an accident really. The Grimm had come out of the trees, but they were a village with no walls and they expected things like this to happen. There were two huntsmen and a huntress living among them. The attack should have been easy to repel. But sometimes, things just happen.

The hunters were the first to go out to fight the Grimm, the villagers rallied behind them. At first things seemed to be going well, but then the Grimm killed the first of their prey: a young man wielding a shortsword and a torch. When he fell, his torch set fire to the building next to him. Within minutes, the whole village was burning. The hunters were young, new graduates that had moved to the village for easy access to bounties. They were distracted by the roaring fire. Two went down in a minute after the fire started. The last held his ground better, but as the Grimm continued to pour out of the forest, he began to be overwhelmed. Villagers were being cut down by the dozen.

Witnessing the chaos was a young boy of only ten, petrified by the violence in front of him. Amidst the chaos, he picked out his mother's voice.

"Run!"

The boy couldn't move. His whole world was falling apart around him. His father's corpse was on the ground, no more than fifty feet in front of him.

"Jason! Run!"

This time, his mother's voice tore him from his stupor. The boy turned toward the forested hills outside the village and darted forward. Jason didn't look back until he couldn't run anymore. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at the smoke rising from his home. He knew he couldn't stay where he was.

* * *

...-...

* * *

Jason had come up to these hills with his father before. There was a cave just a short way further up. They sometimes camped there while Jason's father would check various traps because the entrance was too small for Beowolves to get inside. Jason knew well enough to go there for shelter, so he started on the climb upwards.

He reached the cave within the hour. Fear gripped his heart as he heard the howls of Beowolves close by. Jason didn't hesitate. He slipped through the crags and into the dark of the cave.

Jason searched through his pockets, quickly finding what he was looking for: a piece of flint and his survival knife. If his luck held, he could light the old campfire that he and his father had erected inside the cave. After a few tries, a small fire appeared, revealing the cave to be little more than an eight foot long hole with a narrow entrance and sharp edges. Moss grew in the back left corner, covering that portion of the ground with a thick blanket. More moss covered the ceiling and the left wall. Some of it hung down off the ceiling in small strands. The rock was rough and light grey. Jason had slept here before though, he could do it again. Jason didn't sleep that night though. After being strong and ensuring his survival, he broke down. The events of the day caught up with him and he cried well past midnight before passing out from exhaustion.

Morning came too soon, the rays of dawn piercing through the cave entrance and stinging Jason's tired eyes. The boy sat up with a groan and looked around, the events of the previous day catching up with him as he did so. He started to cry again. He would never call his village home again, nor would he ever see his mother or father. He would never get to laugh as he played with the other children in the village again and he would never again see his mother running out to greet him and his father as they returned from another trip to the hills. Beowolves howled nearby, drawn by Jason's sadness. He was trapped for another day.

It was his third day in the cave that his hunger finally drove him out. He knew where his father's traps were and how to reset them. They would be his only sources of food. Jason cautiously snuck out of the cave, well aware that he wasn't alone in the forest. It wasn't long before he found a trap, this one was empty though. He moved on a little further and came upon a trap with a rabbit. Jason didn't hesitate in pulling out his knife and killing the animal. Fearing he had been outside the cave too long, he quickly reset the trap, took his food, and dashed home to his dank, dark cave.

* * *

...-...

* * *

It was a year before Jason dared to venture down to the village again. What he saw when he did horrified him almost as much as the event that caused its present state. The building closest to the hills, and coincidentally farthest from the fire, was left half standing, thanks to rain most likely, everything else was burned and collapsed. A few charred corpses littered the ground, but most of the bodies were missing, presumably because of the Grimm. The grass as yellow and dead and the farm plots that most of the villagers sustained themselves on had fallen into ruin.

Jason choked back tears as he looked at the village he had grown up in. But now wasn't the time for crying, he had come here for a reason. Jason stepped forward with some slight pain due to his clothing that he had long since outgrown. He moved toward the one house that was still half standing. His luck hadn't run out yet. The house belonged to a family that had a son who was almost fourteen by the time the village was attacked. Jason, at the anniversary of this event, was just eight days away from turning twelve. The clothes would be large, but they'd be better than what he had now. He wandered inside the house, immediately going to the kid's room. Several wooden boards were missing from the roof and the furniture showed signs of water damage. Jason walked up to the dresser, taking a grey short sleeve shirt, the smallest pair of jeans, socks, brown boots, and a brown belt. When Jason changed into the new clothes, he realized that the jeans and belt were still somewhat loose, so he pulled out his knife and put a new hole in the belt. This time, the belt fit nicely and held the jeans up at Jason's waist.

After a moment of getting adjusted to his new outfit, Jason walked back outside. He turned his attention to the corpses. Jason strode over, slowing down as he took in the havoc of the battle all over again. He noticed tears on his face after he snapped out of it, but he simply wiped them away and scanned the ground for what he needed. Propped against one of the buildings, a charred corpse sat with its hand out, as though it had been grasping something.

 _'The last huntsman,'_ Jason thought grimly. Jason's gaze followed the hand of the deceased to see a metal staff that had rolled away from the huntsman as he was mauled to death by Grimm. By the looks of it, the staff had escaped the fire entirely. Only a few feet away from the staff was a large rifle with a strap. _'The huntress's. She was holding that the last time I saw her. She must have been eaten.'_ Jason noted. He shivered at the thought and decided to just grab the weapons. He slung the rifle over his right shoulder, leaving it to hang down by his left thigh and picked up the staff with his right hand, intent on using it as a walking stick. If he ever needed to, Jason could defend himself with these, well, with the rifle at least. Hopefully he could work out how to use the staff, but for now it would be a walking stick. These thoughts in his head, and the dark reminder of his village's fate mixed with them, Jason headed back to his home in the wild.


End file.
